


monday blues

by shepherd



Series: Hug Ignis Week [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hug Ignis Week 2019, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: HUG IGNIS WEEK, DAY TWO: KISSES/SLEEPING INA miserable December morning awaited him outside, a silent street and the slowly drifting snow, and not for the first time Ignis considered clambering back into the bed that cocooned his still slumbering husband and staying there until spring returned.(ignis wakes early one morning, and decides to let gladio rest)





	monday blues

A miserable December morning awaited him outside, a silent street and the slowly drifting snow, and not for the first time Ignis considered clambering back into the bed that cocooned his still slumbering husband and staying there until spring returned.

The alarm clock had read five thirty-two am. But it had been years since Ignis required its shrill shriek and so it sat silent. Gladio, less so, spreading sluggishly across Ignis’ side of the bed to soak up his heat and scent. As always, his snores were soft and steady. Usually he rose around the same time, crawling in for cuddles before the break of dawn, but sometimes he required kissing awake, his husband’s lips leading a path up from his broad shoulder to his sweet mouth. But it was cold even as the timed heating kicked in gradually, and it had been a long and busy weekend. No time to rest and Ignis in his infinite mercy left him to sleep a few minutes longer.

Even his coffee machine seemed lazily slow. Two minutes felt the same as a small eternity. In the meantime, Ignis gazed out of their kitchen window towards their modest garden. What little grass they had barely peeked out of the snow – it must have been falling all night. The sky was just as smothered, stone grey. It was a dull and ugly morning, the stuff of the most dreary winters, and when his machine finally beeped for his attention, he downed half the entire mug in the time it took for the snow to finally, silently stop.

Caffeine helped. It warmed his frozen core and gave new life even if his limbs were heavy. Ignis could face the fresh new morning, at least, if not a long day of digging for funding for new projects to make his higher ups happy. Ignis finished his drink, and thought enviously of his mattress, the sheets they had only changed the night before.

By the time he crept back upstairs, Gladio had scarcely moved and the heating had finally clicked on fully, gearing itself up to heat their home. His sounds had transformed into soft, long sighs. The sheets had slipped down to his lower back and Ignis readjusted them, even draping a spare blanket across him to ensure that his skin would not be vulnerable against the chill. Leaning down he softly kissed his hairline and slipped into the shower.

A planned quick rinse and tussle of his hair became fifteen minutes of staring at the tile and letting the warm water drench him. No matter how he stretched his body was reluctant to cooperate. It was a pitiful start to a long week and Ignis hissed as he pressed too hard and nicked his skin with his razor. Blood welled and stained the tissue he held to it. Ignis cleaned his teeth thoroughly and then realised he missed a patch of hair just beneath his jaw, cursing into the foggy bathroom. An often repeated and easy process dragged, and Ignis wrapped himself in the softest, biggest towel they had, and re-entered the bedroom just as Gladio began to stir.

“Morning, love,” he murmured, hating the mix of coffee and toothpaste on his tongue. Gladio’s hips twisted in the sheets and he moaned very softly, _m’r’nin,_ and then didn’t budge for a full minute. Such a familiar and endearing sight had Ignis grinning at long last. It was typical Gladio, impossible to rouse. He tiptoed through the room to run a brush through his sodden hair. It was finally warm enough to drop his towel and there was absolutely no sense in opening the windows in this season. No light, no sound, only the dew that soaked the frames and nosy neighbours.

Ignis had thought ahead as usual to lay out his suit. As always, he tacked his tie and his socks atop the hanger for easy finding, and he kept his boxers in the drawer underneath. Gladio had not set his clothes out for the morning – unusual, but Ignis took the extra step of picking out his outfit for him – pretending to accidentally pick the shirt that clung to his biceps, the leather jacket that made Ignis’ mouth run dry. He eagerly anticipated hearing Gladio’s knowing laughter.

It took the opening and closing of the underwear drawer for Gladio to grunt and commit to the slow process of sitting up. Ignis stepped into his boxer briefs and managed to get them past his knees before Gladio’s croaky voice called out to him. “Godamn, Igs,” he stretched, his knees popping loudly. “It’s six am. Where you goin’?”

Ignis settled into his underwear and adjusted himself carefully. “Being an adult,” he replied, standing in his holey old novelty boxers, cartoon hearts all over the purple fabric. “Time for you to do the same, I’m afraid.”

With a sniff, an indignant head emerged. Gladio’s hair was wild. Too many combs had snapped in a valiant effort to tame it. “Not today. It’s freezing.”

“Heating’s on. Give it a few.” Ignis said and shrugged into his work shirt. He left it unbuttoned, fetching his chain necklace from the dresser, settling it into the dip in the hollow between his collarbones. It was something he felt nude without. Even standing there in only underwear and an open shirt, he felt perfectly complete.

Gladio rubbed his tired eyes, stretching his arms sluggishly against the headboard – and then froze, and stared. “Are you going into work?”

Ignis arched his brows. “Yes? I recommend you do too, and sharpish. The snow will make the traffic horrific.”

“Why?”

With clumsy fingers, Ignis worked on each button. When done he straightened his collar. “If I don’t, we don’t get money to keep that heating on during horrid days like these. Sound like a good enough reason, my love?”

Confused eyes watched him cross the room for his tie. Ignis had just draped the ends around his neck and pinched them together when Gladio spoke. “Igs, it’s a bank holiday.”

Ignis paused. “I’m sorry?”

The sheets ruffled as Gladio finally sat up. He kept them bundled close, wrangling with the blanket. “It’s our day off. The office is closed.”

For a moment Ignis gazed back at him. So early, it didn’t compute. Then the memory clicked of his colleagues rushing out of work on the Friday to visit a bar down the road, eagerly chattering about their plans for the long weekend, and Gladio’s insistence to not be in bed by ten o’clock on the Sunday, at the very least, and Ignis abruptly felt very foolish.

“Ah,” he said, and Gladio made no attempt to stifle his laughter for even the sake of politeness. He slumped back into their pillows to crow and Ignis stood awkwardly, hands still holding his tie, hair damp. There was still a shiver against his skin, fine hairs standing tall on his forearms and thighs, all for nothing. Embarrassment made his skin hot as Gladio laughed at his expense. “I… I thought that was next week.”

The laughter was close to cackling. It filled the room, much too loud for such an early morning. Gladio was heaving and gasping for air, delighted. His hand spread over his belly.

Soon enough he was wiping tears from his eyes. Ignis glowered at him and shrugged out of his shirt, beet red. “Oh my god,” Gladio sighed, still convulsing with the dying moment of laughter. “God, get back in bed. It’s six. I don’t wanna see your ass out of it until ten, at the least.”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Ignis muttered, and he had never been so disgruntled about a day off in his entire life. The urge to crawl into bed and never ever show his face to the world again was too much. It didn’t help how Gladio’s grin was dozy, delighted. “I was kind enough to let you sleep in, but in the face of such mockery, I might just wake you at four am on the next bank holiday.”

“Oh, you’re precious,” Gladio said, so hyper fixated he forgot to wolf whistle as he always did when Ignis peeled off his underwear. “You were letting me sleep in on a day off.”

“I’ll wake you at three,” Ignis declared, unable to shake the colour that stained his cheeks and down all the way to his chest. “We’ll see how you laugh then.”

Long legs squirmed beneath the sheets to push up, and a corner flipped over. Gladio shuffled back to give him space and patted the springy, welcoming mattress they had just brought new. Memory foam, and absolutely worth the money. Sometimes it was the little things in life. “Get in here,” Gladio said, no room for any argument, Ignis wouldn’t have even if there was.

He sank back into the comfort of their bed. Gladio’s arms were ready and willing. They pulled him in close and even as he grumbled, he pillowed his head on Gladio’s heavy set chest. Freshly washed sheets were cool and crisp, and contentment settled into Ignis’ heart. “Love you,” Gladio rumbled, and Ignis felt the words though his cheek and in his heart.

“Even when I’m a fool?”

More laughter, but Ignis’ shame was cooling. A hand smoothed over his long hair, still damp through. “Especially when you’re a fool,” Gladio promised, and Ignis smiled.

“Love you,” he murmured in the quiet of their bedroom, protected from the chill and the thick blanket of snow. Gladio’s hand toyed with the soft hairs at the base of Ignis’ nape a moment, before smoothing down his shoulder blade.

A beat, and then, _even if you’re an arse_, and Gladio’s rowdy laughter began anew.


End file.
